


The sky is shattering, but the stars still shine.

by niveumnocte



Category: Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Alternate Universe - Non-Despair, Angst, M/M, Other, except theres SO MUCH OF IT, oh man so much of it
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-06-06
Updated: 2014-06-06
Packaged: 2018-02-03 14:45:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,279
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1748369
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niveumnocte/pseuds/niveumnocte
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"But this body wasn't always a shell, he remembered. There was very much a soul in that hollow frame before.<br/>He was human before."</p><p>A collection of memories at his death bed.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to write in a weird, really vague way for this, and I did.  
> Listen to Olafur Arnalds as you read this if you can.

The blaring hallway lights were nothing new to him. They bounced off the polished porcelain tile and into his eyes, magnifying the iridescence of the ivory hallway. Dragging his weary legs across the sparkling floor, eyes glued to his now beige sneakers, he began to drift into his sleep-deprived mind.

He knew the phone call was coming someday. But maybe he thought that “someday” was a week from now, a month from now, a year from now. Was it possible that he simply never accepted the fact that it would arrive? Did he just push it to the corners of his mind, thinking it was alright too mull over it later? He couldn’t sulk over that now. And he knew that.

But he should’ve realized that sooner.

The white floor was interrupted by a single teal tile. He stared at it for a few seconds before clenching his eyes and turning to the all-too-familiar door.

There it was. And here he was.

With an intake of breath, he clenched the cold, steel handle, turned it ever so slowly, and opened the door.

He opened his eyes to a room illuminated by sunlight. No lamps, no luminescent lights, no television. Just the golden beams of the afternoon shining in the room.

Knowing the sound of his movements wouldn’t matter, he silently stepped into the room, closing the door carefully behind him. He advanced into the room as if he was about to encounter a beast. Of course, this beast was unresponsive most of the time, had the weight of a twelve year old, and wasn’t a threat to him at all, but...

But, maybe it was.

At the plastic corner of the bed, he ceased his movements. With a heavy sigh, he raised his head and gazed upon his beast.

By now, his paper skin was almost identical to his snowy hair. His glassy, turquoise eyes gazed thoughtlessly into the window, thoughtlessly upon the outside world. There wasn’t an ounce of color in that pigment. There was no light in those eyes.

Is this truly a human? he thought to himself. He shook his head, and whispered to the body,

“No. It’s only a shell.”

But this body wasn’t always a shell, he remembered. There was very much a soul in that hollow frame before.

He was human before.


	2. Winter.

“Ugh, Jesus,” he laid his head on his notebook, “What the hell is wrong with trigonometry? Why am I taking this?”

A chuckle sputtered from the opposite side of the table, “We’re required to, Hinata.”

“I know,” he sat up with a groan, “But I hate it.”

“Ah, come on,” he tied his hair back as he spoke, “You worked so hard to get into this school! The last thing you should be complaining about is the workload,” he grinned, eyes shifting to his own notebook, “The first would probably be the students, though.”

“Our homeroom isn’t too bad,” he shrugged, “Besides, you got to Hope’s Peak by winning a lottery. Did you even get good grades before?”

“Oh, I didn’t really know them,” he smiled, eyes wandering the contents of the pages, “I was out of school a lot. I get sick easily.”

He wasn’t surprised. The white-haired boy’s pale demeanor and seemingly fragile limbs were the prime indicators, but his eyes were full of light, his voice abundant in resonance. He couldn’t have been that ill.

“How so?”

His smile twitched, but it remained, “I get sick with seasonal changes. You know? Pollen in the spring, the bad weather in the winter. I don’t know why I’m so prone to it all.”

Hajime eyeballed him with his brows knit, grimace apparent on his face.

“Don’t lie. It’s not good for your health.”

He laughed, looking up into his hazel eyes.

“You don’t need to tell me that.”

 

* * *

 

“We’re going to the shrine for New Year’s,” she noted with a drowsy smile, “Do you want to come along?”  
His blue eyes ogled the two, glanced around the classroom, then returned their gaze, “Oh, me?”

“Yes,” the boy next to her grumbled, “Who else?”

“Well, I don’t have a date is all,” he gave a sheepish grin, “I’ll be kind of a third wheel, right?”

“Nagito, for the last time, we aren't dating,” he growled, his face in his hands.

“My bad,” he giggled, “You two are just adorable together!”  
“Thank you,” the girl chuckled, “That’s an idea. Isn't it, Hinata?”

“Not you, too...”

The other two shared their laughter, and eventually, Hajime joined as well.

 

...

 

On that day, it snowed. But it wasn't terrible, and it wasn't stunning either. It was as if dandelion petals were being carried by a soft breeze.

“Who would've thought it would snow?” he sighed, burying his face in his scarf, “And who else would let us wait out here...”

“It isn't too bad,” she shrugged, DS in hand, “Besides, Komaeda's sick today. It would make sense that he would be late.”

“... He’s sick today?”

“Yeah, didn't he message you?” she looked up from her game, “He gets sick when the weather gets bad. Like that one fairy tale... or was it a book...”

He stared off into space, watching the small snowflakes as they drifted onto the ground, onto the bench, onto him.

“I should call him,” he took out his phone, “Just to see if he’s coming. It’s getting late.”

She nodded before grumbling and smashing the A button repeatedly.

He dialed the number, put it to his ear, and began to stare at the snow again. It stayed white as it brushed his gloved hand. Stayed white as it landed on his scarf, his coat. But it melted when it touched his skin. It gracefully danced downward before dissolving into the pavement.. but it was just snow. It was just frozen water. It wasn’t conscious, so why would it--

 

_-Please leave a message after the beep.-_

 

“Oh,” he snapped out of it with a fumble, “Uh, Komaeda? Can you call me back soon? I just need to know if you’re coming with us to the shrine. Thanks.”

He tapped his screen, eyeballs glued to his contact information.

“... He didn't pick up?”

He continued to stare. Phone number. Email address. Instant-messaging ID. Home address.

“... Hinata?”

A small flake landed gently on the screen, and melted upon contact.

“I...” he turned to her, “Yeah, I’ll try to call aga--”

A text message.

“... It’s him.”

 

_Hi! sorry that i didn't pick up. my throat’s all closed up. i dont think i can come today. have fun!_

 

“What?” he clicked his tongue, “He could've told me earlier.”  
“He might have slept late, if he’s sick...” she responded, trailing off, “No, he messaged me to wake me up. He said that he would most likely be going, though...”

“I’m calling him again,” he tapped the screen yet again.

“There isn't a reason to.”

He glared, but then looked down, and to his lap, “Sorry, I’m just... worried.”

“Worried?”

“He’s not just sick. He lied about the seasonal sickness thing. He told me that he lied about it. Well, sort of. Ugh, do you know what I mean? I think something’s really wrong with him..”

She looked to him, eyebrows furrowed, “... Wouldn't he already know that though?”

He looked back, “What do you mean by that?”

 

_-Please leave a message after the beep.-_

 

“Maybe he doesn't want us to know.”

His eyes widened before he could gather an appropriate response.

“... Hinata?”

He clenched his eyes and bit his lip, shook his head with a sigh, “Something’s... terribly wrong with him. I don’t know what it is. I’m not sure if I’ll know if he won’t tell me, but...”

He rose from his seat, brushing off the snow his clothes collected.

“... Wait, are we going?”

He shook his head, sticking his hands in his pockets, “I’m... I’m going to see him. I’m sorry, I feel the need to.”

She stared at him at first, but a warm smile spread across her face, “No problem. I’m alright by myself.”

“No, uh,” he stuttered, lifting his hand before she got up, “... Can you come with me?”

“Hm?” she blinked drowsily at him, “I’d be happy to, but... why?”

With a sigh, he looked down at snowflakes fading into the pavement.

“I’m scared.”

 

...

 

The door was unlocked. They noticed before they rang the doorbell and knocked several times, but all he wanted was some form of a response.

He opened the door and bellowed into the house, “We’re coming in!”

Not a single light was on in the small abode. The small rays that did enter came from the snowy landscape outside, creeping out of the drawn curtains. Not much furniture resided in it either, which didn’t compliment its unkempt demeanor. It was as if somebody just moved out and left their things to rot.

“Komaeda?” he hollered up the stairs.

No response.

“... Do you want me to go up first?”

“No, no,” he took off his shoes before advancing up the stairs, “It’s fine.”

There were three rooms. One on the left, one on the right, and the last at the end of the hallway. Not even an inch of light peeked underneath them.

“... Hinata, you’re shaking.”

“No, I’m not,” he tightened his hands into fists.

She smiled, holding his trembling fist softly, “It’s okay, we can open the doors together.”

He looked down at the gentle hand, loosened his fists, and took it.

“Thanks...”

A knock on the left door. No response.

“Komaeda?” he called. No response.

“The one at the end is a bathroom,” she pointed, “Do you see the tiles?”

He nodded, turning his head to the door behind him.

“... It probably won’t be as bad as you think, Hinata...”

“I’ve seen him pretty bad before,” he sighed, “I don’t know what to expect.”

He let go of her hand, took four steps, and held his fist to the door. He knocked once.

“... Komaeda, I’m coming in.”

Turning the cold silver knob, he opened the door and gazed into the room. There was a window, light from the snow bouncing into the room. To the corner of that window, there was a twin-sized bed with a small, pale figure nestled in the white sheets.

He approached him, taking long strides to his bedside. His eyes were open, staring aimlessly at the wall. He had his arms wrapped around his chest, almost as if he was embracing himself.

Then he saw him. Although his brow furrowed, he cracked a half-smile.

“... Nice of you to visit me,” he croaked.

He kneeled down to meet his eyes. “No problem,” he smirked softly, “... Hey, do you mind if I ask you a question?”

He eyeballed the pain medication on the windowsill.

“Yeah?” he continued to grin weakly, half-lidded eyes staring into the hazel ones.

“... How sick are you?”

“Sick enough to stay home.”

“You know what I mean.”

He chuckled, a twinge of pain following it, “That’s all there is to it. You shouldn't worry.”

“Don’t tell me how to feel about this,” he knit his brows, his voice stern, “I’m worried. You know I have the right to be. Please, just tell me what’s wrong?”

His smile grew wider, “There isn't any reason to worry about me...”

“Yes there is!” he shouted, balling his fists next to him, “You cough and you can’t breathe sometimes, but you don’t have asthma-- And what’s with the fatigue? All these fevers? Now, weird pains? Not to mention, you look sick as all hell anyway,” he looked down as he felt the tears well up in his eyes, “I just--”

He was interrupted by a wheezy laughter, “Don’t fucking worry about it, Hinata! It’s not like it matters!”

His eyes darted back up in shock.

“You shouldn't be worrying about me,” he twinged in pain, his legs curling to his chest, “I’m just... useless. Useless, breathing trash. Hell, I’m barely breathing anyway!”

He let out whimpers of his name, but the cackling drowned them out.

“I, of all people, shouldn't be worrying you,” his eyes grew wider, “You should be worrying about school, dates, going to shrines, but certainly not me. That’s ridiculous... I thought you were smarter than that, Hinata...”

“Nagito...”

“You wanna know what’s wrong with me?” he sat himself up shakily with the sneering grin still painted on his face, “Cancer. I have Stage III Malignant Lymphoma.”

Now looking up at him, his wide, disbelieving eyes dripped.

“And on top of that?” he shook his head with a giggle, “Frontotemporal dementia.”

Blinking in disbelief, Hinata stood up weakly, putting his hands on the mattress in front of him.

He leaned in closer to him, giggling in a voice just above a whisper, “Do you know what that is? The decaying of the front of your brain. Only old people are supposed to get that, right? Well, guess not! I’m sixteen, right? Pfff, I should have a whole life ahead of me, shouldn't I?!”

He coughed, clenching onto his sides.

“But n-no... My brain’s literally rotting away...”

Unblinking, he continued to stare into the crazed blue eyes, “How much longer...”

Cringing in pain, he still held a smile.

“N-not even... a year.”

He clenched the sheets, boring his eyes into those that wouldn't look back.

“I was diagnosed with both right before I got accepted into school,” his smile grew weak along with his body, arms loosening their grip around his body, “How lucky am I, right?”

He clasped his hand around the pale one, tears flowing down his face.

“You should've told me... so much earlier....”

He giggled, looking up into his glossy hazel eyes.

“... You don’t need to tell me that.”

 


End file.
